Decepticon
by Kitt SummerIsle
Summary: "It's The End of the World As We Know It"
1. Chapter 1

Title: Decepticon  
>Continuity: G1-ish<br>Character(s): Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Darkflame (OC)

Summary: "It's The End of the World As We Know It"

Rated: T  
>Warnings: violence, rape, torture, character deaths<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

Somewhere on Cybertron, in a lab a mech screams continuously, only stopping when his vocalizer gives out and the sound chokes into static; before the self-repair fixes it up again so the screaming picks up – the cycle repeating itself for orns. His spark stutters, fluctuates, jerking around in the chamber kept open by force, like a trapped animal trying to escape – but it can't. A single optic watches it impassively, the servo adjusting a dial sometimes, the optic watching the monitors connected to the screaming mech's spark-chamber. He is not disturbed by the screams, neither is he moved by them. They are inconsequential.

**Arriving**

The five mechs stepped off the space bridge platform in a loose group, looking around curiously in the cold, early morning of Earth's sunrise. None of them has seen direct sunlight since Cybertron was pushed out of its orbit and started its lone wandering in the darkness of space. None of them was a space explorer either to see other systems' Suns shining on planetside or on their moons, so the bright morning light came as a surprise to them after the ever-present gloom of their home. The group was a motley one, from the smaller minibots and the specialist medic till the tallest mech, obviously a warrior-build; visibly not belonging to the same unit, if the mistrust that they looked at each other was any indication. Not that actual, visible trust was an oft seen commodity in the Decepticon ranks.

The Space Bridge operator, who was Swindle in this shift, waved them off the platform at once to make space for the cargo arriving after them, and considering it more important than the mechs. He also told them to report to the Decepticon Headquarters at once, but his attention was already on his merchandise – some that did not officially comprised part of today's cargo which was handled by Shockwave's drones. The outgoing group, the Constructicons that Shockwave requested temporarily on Cybertron were waiting until the boxes and bales were downloaded, then going through the portal.

The mechs moved on as ordered, still mostly looking around to see more of the organic planet, so different in every detail from Cybertron; but none seemed to show a particular liking for it. They heard quite enough unpleasant details and rumours about the planet and its inhabitants that they were vary of it; not of the afraid kind of wary but rather a disgusted one. Organic life is quite low on the scale of things among Decepticons in general. Still, the bright, warming light made the planet far more welcoming than the gloomy half-darkness and cold that permeated the ruins of Cybertron's long-gone cities these orns.

Once in the base and identified by the security system, they were ordered to the Command Center for briefing. In the spacious room with all the monitors by the walls, manned by Soundwave and a sleepy-looking Seeker at the time, they genuflected respectfully before Megatron who was sitting on his throne bored; as their rank dictated the warriors in front, the medic and the minibots behind them. Soundwave stood up from his monitoring station to move beside his leader and supplied the names and specifics of the newly arrived group on a datapad. Expectably the warlord was only interested in the warriors, barely glancing at the replacement medic for Hook and completely ignored the minibots, whom the telepath ordered out immediately. Megatron watched the remaining trio, and with a flicker of his servo sent the medic too on his way, concentrating on the two warrior types.

"You are Blackjack?"

"Yes, Lord Megatron" – the smaller, dark green and grey coloured mech answered respectfully; only a bit afraid and trying to hide it from his voice.

"What is your specialty?" – he could have read the datapad of course, but he much preferred to see and hear mechs how they reacted to him.

"I am a sniper, my Lord."

"For your sake I hope that you are good at it."

"Yes Lord Megatron! I was the best in Commander Shockwave's squadron! I will serve you faithfully!"

"Of course you will. Or you die, like all traitors."

Why did they always flinch at that statement, he never understood. Traitors deserved to be offlined, it was obvious; but it was never an accusation when he said that, as he didn't accuse mechs, but gathered proof or absolution and acted on those as it was fit.

"Darkflame?"

"That would be me, Lord Megatron. I am a melee warrior mainly." – the other mech answered with a far bolder tone than his partner; his strong, black frame was adorned with tiny red-gold flames, the reddish visor and battle-mask hiding most of his face. The respectful pose didn't hide his strength and the feline-like fluidity of his movements that promised great battle-prowess and Megatron silently approved it; the mech was similar to himself and even familiar a tiny bit.

"Mainly? What else?"

"I dabbled a bit with spec ops too. Sabotage, counter-espionage, demolition… all sorts of things. But I prefer servo-to-servo fighting."

"You are built for battle, I can see that. Why spec ops?"

"Shockwave saw it fit to utilize my talents." – a short, unperturbed shrug accompanied the sentence, with little audible respect for the usually feared Commander's name. Megatron was even more interested; most of Shockwave's troops were at least uneasy with him, and he found it quite unexpected that the black warrior apparently wasn't so.

"I find it refreshing that you do not cower before me."

"Were I afraid, I wouldn't show it. Gladiators learn that early."

"So you were a gladiator… in Kaon?"

"Yes. We met a few times in the Arena too… I remember more of course, you were a famous one by then."

"And you a young one in training… yes. So you survived it… good for you. Just don't expect any favours because of it."

"I rarely have need of favors Lord Megatron… and I never expect them."

"Wise choice."

The audience ended there and although nobody expected the warlord give any favors for the black warrior, the ones who heard about the conversation in the command center respected Darkflame for what he apparently was just a bit more than a personnel file would have them so. He was soon feared too by many, after the rumor-mill spread his experience with spec ops under Shockwave; strength, training and shared past with commanders was a potentially very dangerous mix and Decepticons survived by knowing whom they had to fear, whom had any clout with higher-ups and avoiding any with those combinations.

The new fighters got the vacated quarters of the Constructicons, although their former lab was closed down and not to be used until their return. Both of them got used to the way of life in the base easily, finding Soundwave a good superior, even as his cassettes were not that easy to get along with; Frenzy and Rumble seem to have taken a dislike to Darkflame and pranked him mercilessly – the cassettes obviously trusted their master to be on their side if caught. Nobody could say that he took any kind of revenge on the annoying little slaggers, but interestingly, after a time they seemed to come to fear him; and not even Soundwave could find out exactly what transpired among them.

Darkflame also got off a bad start with the Seekers, who usually ignored the grounders, but accidentally knocking Skywarp off his feet was apparently enough for him to take umbrage, even though it was the flier suddenly and somewhat randomly teleporting in front of him. Not backing off when he felt right also meant the black and purple Seeker's mate, the usually placid Thundercracker also picking on him, and Starscream joined his trine-mates on general principles. But it didn't matter. He was integrating to the army, becoming trusted on the battlefields, known by the command staff and to his surprise trusted by Soundwave – and that was all what mattered. As the orns came and went he even got used to the organic planet too, even if never liking it much; and even less the local organic sentients who invariably sided with the Autobots.

**Battle**

They were on lookout for the Autobots who were sure to arrive sooner or later; and when that happened they would have to provide cover for the minibots, gathering the energon in the plant. The Seekers were also around and although they would surely be the first to notice the approaching Bots, Blackjack didn't really trusted them to provide ample cover. After all, they have heard how treacherous Starscream was, how often he tried to plot against Megatron; no wonder their orders included keeping an optic on him too, and if he did anything funny deal with him, and his Trine too depending on where they stood. It was quite incomprehensible to him how the screeching Seeker kept his position as SIC with such an attitude; he much preferred Soundwave's command, as at least it was clear where he stood, even as he was distinctly creepy for some reason. They were all staying low behind some buildings, waiting for orders, when the Prime's distinctive colours appeared over the low ridge by the river, and they saw his colourful crew around him, taking their positions.

"Decepticons, wait" – their comm erupted in a general frequency, Starscream's scratchy voice clearly recognizable – "The main force is coming from downriver. These are just holograms."

"Right wing: move towards river. Left wing: withdraw." – It was Soundwave's calm order, in response to the Air Commander's information, accompanied by a databurst. – "Target area: marked. Snipers: ready. Seekers: may begin attack."

Megatron of course didn't hide, as it was not in his nature to do so; he called out his challenge to the Prime whether he was behind the holograms or coming from the other side, marking, as always the center of the battlefield. The Seekers flew over the river, strafing what looked to be empty area, until the hits connected; then the dissipating fields revealed the Autobots, trying to ambush them but failing due to the Seekers seeing through the deceit. Instead they got into the crossfire from the Trines and the snipers stationed in the upper levels of the plant, as they had to close their ranks to hide behind the forcefields – and with the ensuing melee the battle proper started in the Cons' favor, having taken a few Bots already out of commission. As the frontlines clashed just outside the plant, the snipers had a field day, picking out Bots one by one until they too got under fire from the cannons of the enraged Ironhide, half collapsing their lookout building and making the sharpshooters withdraw.

In the battle proper, it was going to their way too, as most of the Bots were busy with the ground troops closing in on them and the strong fire from above; the failed tactic prevented the Twins from trying Jet Judo on the Seekers and so they were free to harass them as they saw fit. Indeed as the battle was looking to be theirs comfortably, the energon collecting was also successful and nearing completion; and just as the success made them careless a bit, the teroror-twins broke through the front ranks scattering the Stunticons and entering the plant itself, intent on preventing the Con minibots trying to get away with the energon that they packed into Astrotrain. But they were confronted with Motormaster and the red twin was careless enough to fall heavily damaged from his attack; his brother, tied up with the returning Stunticons was unable to help him. Megatron, seeing the collected amount of energon ordered the triplechanger to take off and carry the cargo to the base, while they retreated orderly, leaving the Autobots to clear up the mess that they left of the plant.

Darkflame, nearing the center from the wing he was stationed, saw the laughing Wildrider and the intent Drag Strip entertaining the steadily deteriorating yellow twin, while the other was unmoving on the floor; the other Bots nearby trying to get to them to help but still held back by Megatron and the Prime having their usual scuffle at the entrance. He run through the empty space between the main building and their former position, heard Soundwave ordering the two stunt-cars out at the back after they incapacitated the yellow Lamborghini too; going the same way, he moved up to the red Bot, recognized the mangled body, and stopping for just a second looked down at him, cannon pointing at the broken chest-plate. He was alive and conscious but barely; by the expression in the blue optics, he apparently expected the black Con to give him a final shot. But after a second of pause Darkflame retracted his weapon, stepped over the red body without further ado and not looking back joined to the rest of the retreating army. They had a lot to celebrate the end of the cycle and even Megatron looked sufficiently content with the victory to break out some high-grade.

Back to the Autobot base the mood was far less happy with almost a dozen Bots still in med-bay, some seriously injured; not to mention the death toll among their human allies. Injured including the red twin, who was dug out from under the rubble by his slightly less damaged brother, who was already complaining about the state of his armour – meaning recovered enough to do so. It took Ratchet and First Aid a full joor to weld the red warrior together enough to even pronounce him stable so that the latter could work on the others too and throw Sunstreaker out to get some rest in their quarters.

But even after leaving med-bay, Sideswipe was unusually thoughtful, almost like he was thinking out a new, complicated prank. He was nagging his twin about the last, disastrous battle in which they both got slagged up so much that Ratchet didn't even curse them; Sideswipe was very nearly a goner by the time the medic could get to him in the midst of the destroyed building. Still he didn't mention anyone that he felt a Con stopping over him and didn't finish the work what the others started; only to his brother, who apparently didn't think much of it.

"I swear Sunny he did it deliberately. It was… I don't know, queer. Like he took pity or something."

"He must have thought you offline already. And don't call me that."

"But I also felt something... like he was familiar or something…"

"Familiar? Show me."

But even the visual capture failed to bring anything to Sunstreaker's mind; his only comment was that the mech had style in armour and colouring – a rare compliment from the vain frontliner. It sufficiently pissed off Sideswipe to forget the accident. Not forever though…

**Escape**

Okay, going on patrol with Bumblebee and deliberately losing him on the nighttime and therefore pleasantly empty freeway for some forbidden speeding was a distinct mistake. But then one could say that pairing a vain Lamborghini and a battered VW to patrol the highway was a mistake in the first place. Not that Sunstreaker had anything against Bumblebee, no. Just his alt-mode, his colour and his all-too-often annoying, far too cheerful mouth that he shut only marginally more than Bluestreak. Still, he would have appreciated someone comming the base for reinforcements when those damn Seekers came by to play with him. Had the yellow bug been near, they could have stood the attack better until the cavalry came, but alone he had no such luck. Out on the flat surface of the empty road there was precious little he could do against three Seekers and they knew it; he was shot, battered, shot again, toyed with and at the end they decided to take him back to the Decepticon base for further 'play'.

"You will rust here Autobot, you know that? Nobody will come and save you. We will play with you until you are offlined."

Sunstreaker was rather hoping that it wouldn't come to that, but he had to admit that his chances were not very good – but besides growling back at them, he could do not a slagging thing about it. This base was something that Cons finished not long ago and he heard from Bumblebee that they had yet to find the ways in and out of it; and if it took too long he might not see the rescue. That he could not escape he was sure; the first thing they did was to crush both his lower legs so he couldn't even stand, much less walk out. The fact that he was chained in a brig cell with energized bars also didn't help a lot.

The worst thing was that they didn't even want him to tell secrets – they knew that he had nothing of the kind to tell so he couldn't even be heroically silent. So he was just an… amusement to whichever Con felt like kicking him around, trying out some sort of a torture device, or just take an interest in him for a 'face. The Seekers certainly wanted to get all the revenge for the Jet Judos that he used to pull on them. Mostly it was Starscream, but Skywarp also came down to the cell often to cackle around the chained and battered mech and pound new dents and scratches into his chassis; cheerfully mocking the vain warrior for the state he was in, knowing it to be equal to any torture in his mind.

He noticed an interesting, and in his opinion quite sick thing in how the Cons worked; whoever was the guard in duty of the brig area had the authority to let the others in the cell, and they sort of… bartered for the torture-time with him like it was a usual kind of business. He took note of it when the newly arrived, black one was on duty, the warrior that Sideswipe noticed in the last battle, and the mech refused all such offers from the other Cons, only backing down to rank when Starscream demanded to be let in. Maybe Sides was right and he had a softer spark than the rest of them? Not that he did anything else for him while on duty down there, but it was still significant.

The next orn though when Darkflame was on duty again in the brig and it was night cycle, there weren't any other Cons coming by. Sunstreaker was by then half-offline most of the time, pain, injuries and lack of fuel taking their toll heavily on him, contemplating only the surely imminent offlining. He didn't notice Darkflame moving silently into his cell, and didn't come online when the black mech picked the lock on the handcuffs and lifted the limp, energon-streaked, by this time barely yellow body in his arms.

Sunstreaker did notice some time later that he was in fresh air with actual wind blowing around him and although it was not pleasant on his injuries, its cold caused him to come online shivering. The black mech held his chassis up while the rest of him lay on a rocky surface, and noticing that he was around, silently offered a cube of energon. He drank the fuel eagerly and it made his processor wake up a bit more, recognizing his rescuer with a surprise – he thought he would see Mirage or even Jazz leaning over him as rescuers, and most definitely not a Con. But the mech beat him to speaking; the deep, rumbling voice was surprisingly calm and almost sympathetic in his audials.

"I fixed your comm, you can call your friends now."

"Why…? Who are you…?" – he surprised even himself by being able to whisper.

"Designation is Darkflame, but I must go back now. Dirge is on monitors and he always falls asleep but I must get back before Soundwave sends a cassette to check on him."

"Why did you save…?"

A long look from behind a visor, hiding his secrets… and the mech stood up, moving away until Sunstreaker, falling to the ground couldn't see him. The deep voice floating back to him might have been just a figment of his imagination…

"Humans would say than blood is thicker than water…"

But he was able to comm to the Ark and was picked up a few breems later by a distraught Ratchet, Ironhide, Prime and a half-mad Sideswipe; carried to the med-bay and put back together in an orn or so by the worrying medic who didn't even threw wrenches this time and let his red twin stay in med-bay. They were all worried by his captivity and that the Decepticons made no demands for him, didn't even answer to their tries to contact; and after almost five orns their hopes were down to almost zero. They only knew that he was alive but from Sideswipe's condition they pretty much guessed his own too – and it gave them even more to worry about.

After being released from med-bay and recharging for almost a full orn good measure, he asked the officers and the Prime to hear him and his twin out about the complications of his escape; they too knew that he couldn't have escaped on his own but waited him to tell exactly who helped him. After recounting Sideswipe's earlier case and his story with the black warrior Prime looked thoughtful, while Prowl was expectedly dubious; Jazz was apparently trying to glean more information about Darkflame from Teletraan. It wasn't all that often to find a Decepticon who actually helped an Autobot without anything to gain for it.

"Ah'm sure heard that designation somewhere…"

"He was stationed on Earth only recently. Info tells he was on of Shockwave's mechs on Cybertron."

"Gotcha summat… hmmm, mech was a gladiator before the war."

"I was sure I'd seen him before… so that must have been it." – they all knew the twins' history in the Kaon gladiator Pits; what made so many not trusting them. Sideswipe didn't actually remember the black mech from the Pit, but he was sure that he felt familiar from somewhere.

"But what about that human saying? It'd indicate actual relationship between him and the two of you. Is it possible?"

"Since we know absolutely nothing of our creator or family… anything is possible."

Sunstreaker looked acutely uncomfortable and if it weren't in the company of all the officers he would have been outright angry. That past was not something they often dwelt on and he liked recalling to it even less than his red twin. There wasn't much good or even tolerable in their past. Certainly nothing they could call family. To have one unknowingly was certainly possible, and he too, like his brother felt something in his spark when Darkflame held him during the rescue; nothing like the bond between themselves, but some kind of a… familiar frequency, as he put it. All in all, they agreed that the matter was definitely worth gaining more information about.


	2. Chapter 2

**Captured**

Of course he got punished for falling to recharge on duty and letting the Bots somehow rescue their prisoner; but nobody accused or even suspected him to be the one doing the rescuing. After all, the monitors showed him to be at his post albeit in recharge, and that meant probably the invisible Autobot, Mirage getting in and out with Sunstreaker. The small hologram generator that made it possible was not noticed by anyone. But Megatron was not pleased by loosing the prisoner, even if he was worthless, and since he could blame it on someone he did so, showing at the same time that no favors existed on account of some shared past. Darkflame took the orns in the brig that he was sentenced to unflappably and didn't complain either aloud or in his mind. It was calculated after all.

By the time of the next raid he was out of it too, and back into action; but this battle didn't go that well for them, as it went on for a long time with the edge of the battle shifting to both sides alternately; but in the end the arriving human military forces deciding it to the Autobots favor. Many of them got injured in the long struggle and had to be dragged out of the front lines by comrades willing to do so; as their numbers dwindled, Megatron ordered the retreat and Darkflame had to act as rear-guard as one of the few still able to fight. As his luck went, it was probably the last shot of the battle, or close to it that knocked him out for a few kliks – and a seemingly very pissed off red minibot that shot him point blank when he onlined. The battle sort of ended for him there, and being at the very rear, he couldn't have expected anyone to drag his chassis out of it either.

It was Jazz noticing Darkflame's offline form on the battlefield after Megatron & Co. all retreated and after a cursory examination he called Ratchet and the Prime there too, hurriedly filling in the medic about the discussion earlier that concerned this particular Decepticon. They all agreed that under the circumstances it was worth taking him to the Ark and try to get some secrets out of him; and if they could do even more, that would be even better.

The first time Darkflame came online everything was fuzzy, noisy and he had absolutely no idea as to where the place was or how he got there. Hazily he felt that it was like someone trying to hold him down but even half-online he was stronger and made short work of the hand holding him. Slaggers, why can't they let a mech recharge high-grade out normally? At least he assumed the processor-ache was coming from that…

"Let me see that servo First Aid, he really twisted it. He can wait with the repairs if he is well enough to abuse the medic."

Ratchet was pissed off even though he of all mechs knew that the Decepticon was not in his right – or even wrong – mind when he mangled the assistant medic's servo. After all he was connected to enough monitors to clearly show that there wasn't enough of a processor working in his helm to be called online. He put it down to warrior reflexes, administered a stronger sedative and continued working on him.

The second time though, now that was really unexpected. He shouldn't have come out of the sedation, he shouldn't have been able to stand, much less tackle Ratchet and knock out poor First Aid again for his troubles. If not for the just arriving Ironhide, he might have escaped into the corridor and from then on… well, Ironhide decided to stay in the med-bay from then on, and the black mech was shackled to the med-bay table until Ratchet worked on him.

Darkflame was angry at himself, even though there was no way he could have known that that fragging walking cannon would choose exactly that moment to come to the med-bay. His system could handle sedatives quite well in working condition but he knew that he would not get a third chance. Not even Autobots were that stupid and each sedative was slaggingly stronger than the one before, his filters less able to deal with it.

"You can take him to the brig now, Ironhide, it is best if he comes online there this time. I've done all I could to him."

"All right. I've had enough of the fragger too."

Ironhide picked up the still prone form with some effort and without much tenderness cuffed the servos behind his back and hauled the offline mech through the corridors and to the brig. Depositing him to a cell, he activated the bars and set up the guard duty roster – carefully avoiding the twins this time who would usually be his first choice. No need to tempt fate. Notifying Optimus Prime and Prowl about it Ironhide grudgingly left them in charge of the prisoner, knowing that they would be far more lenient than him or Red Alert. Even if the mech decided to defect he wouldn't fall for it easily.

"Prowl, you would be the best to talk him. If what the twins say is true, we might have a chance to turn him to our side, and that would be quite beneficial for us; he is a strong warrior and we could use one. If you see him accepting our way of things, I authorize you to offer asylum here." – it was obvious that the Prime would want to try this approach but why he thought Prowl to be the mech for it…? He seriously considered drafting Jazz to the job but at the end gave it up, and trusted Prime to instinctly perceive things that defied his logic-centers. Planning his approach based on what they know he waited for an orn with the interrogation.

Prowl went to the brig shortly after the guard notified him that the prisoner came online after recharge. He sent Bluestreak away and went to the bars, watching the black mech carefully. He was sitting relaxed on the floor beside the berth, hands still cuffed behind and watching him to enter just as observantly as he did – obviously not a slow one to awaken from recharge. Even though he was violent earlier in the med-bay, this time he looked calm and collected, like someone perfectly at ease with his surroundings.

"I brought you some energon. I trust you not to attack me if I go in to give it to you…?" – he didn't phrased it as a question since the mech looked like intelligent enough not to behave erratically but his intonation was raised at the end seeing the other's scowl.

"You shouldn't trust me at all. I am a Decepticon." – came the dry answer that made Prowl stop and ask back before deciding what to do with the cube of energon.

"Do you intend to attack me?"

"Would I tell you if I did?"

"Why would you attack me? You have very little chance of getting out of the base even if you overpower me."

"Kidding, right…? You are the SIC and senior tactician of the Autobot army. Your permanent offline would more than worth mine any orn; and had you come in here it would be a sure thing."

"In that case I shall leave the energon here and let you manage it as you can." – and he set it just inside of the temporarily deactivated bars. He also revised his estimate of the prisoner upwards; apparently he was not the usual Decepticon grunt.

"Smart mech."

"Prowl. I think we should start a new approach."

"Darkflame. But you already know that. Which angle shall we discuss?"

"You appear to have helped two of our officers in the near past. You also hinted at some secret that some of us would like to know. Will you tell about it?"

**Defecting**

So, they managed to add two and two together and came out with four. Small surprise there, this Prowl was by the info about him an outstandingly smart one; and had one beside him who understood mechs too, his mate Jazz. Darkflame knew of course that in time they would get the whole picture, or as much of it as possible, but hoped it to be a bit later.

"No matter the secrets that I hold, I stand by to what I believe."

"Nevertheless, I would be interested to hear them."

"They are personal; I am not an officer, so you won't get any info out of me as I have none."

"I am interested in the personal part for now. Later we can talk about your convictions too."

"Provided there is a 'later'…"

"After sending proof to Megatron about your part in Sunstreaker's escape? I think you might be better staying here than going back."

He kept his anger in check almost totally, and with the mask and visor on he was almost successful. If not for his ability for minute observation Prowl might have missed a fist clenching almost imperceptibly before relaxing again.

"So you decided to call my bluff and dare me to come out openly." – a dry pause, a scowl clearly in the voice, even unseen – "In other words ruin my life in exchange for saving your men."

Prowl actually had the decency of feeling his conscience nagging him a bit after Darkflame had put it that way. Even if it was a bluff, such action would cause him to be offlined in a painful way if getting back to the Decepticon base; and after that he did save Sunstreaker it would have been a poor way to pay it back to him. But he went on, trying to convince the mech of their intentions, their values and playing on the clear connection to the twins that the mech had. He understood soon why the Prime asked him to talk to the mech; his keen mind was more likely to be convinced by reasoned arguments than passionate speeches or playing on the family card outright and his dry sarcasm wouldn't take the Prime's pathos well. They spent orns arguing the moral values in a war, as Darkflame was distinctly uninterested as to the reasons behind the start of it; he said many times that those reasons were long outdated by all that went on since, and he had no interest in chewing on them with no clear right or wrong.

The twins visited him though, it would have been hard to keep those two away from the brig and he told them his secret, and his reason for not wanting to be Autobot. They accepted him as their elder brother, their sparks felt it even if their minds were still doubting. He told them his memories, stories that they wanted to hear, of their creators, their lives, their early vorns; and of his life, his decisions that led him to believe in Megatron's ideas and make the opposite choice than themselves. They were sad stories, but then wartime rarely makes happy ones possible; and although Darkflame chose the Decepticon way, they could, in a way understand him. After all, they were not that different.

It took time to bend his intelligence and his strong will to see the Autobot way; Shockwave's lies and half-truths dwelt long and deep in his processor and gave way reluctantly to new ideas. But eventually they did, and the occasion when Darkflame swore loyalty to follow Optimus Prime was a personal kind of victory to all of them; anyone privy to the long discussions knew that it was not just a fickle decision of a mercurial character, seeking the easiest way out; but a deep-set, strong worldview giving way to a massive change after much deliberation.

**Victory**

The next several orns brought absolutely nothing unexpected either in the war or in the Autobots' personal lives. Life went on in the Ark, Decepticon raids went one after the other with varying success or failure, and the Autobots slowly got used to Darkflame being among them. Well, some slower than others obviously. Red Alert's ever-present and all-encompassing paranoia didn't let him to trust many and certainly not a recently turned Decepticon, and quite a few shared his opinion too, like Ironhide or the minibots. The latter having a particular reason for it too; they mostly resented the twins as well, and Darkflame apparently being their brother didn't endear him to them any better.

Still, as time went on the mistrust if not disappeared but lessened a bit; helped along by Darkflame's total calmness with which he took the enmity as natural, and caring not a whit about it. At first it was strange to see him in the rec-room, calmly taking the hostile glances and the unkind remarks – not any pranking as even the minibots weren't suicidal to go up against three melee warriors if one went wrong. But as the time went on, the glances sought him out less and less, and the remarks became more personal, more sarcastic than hostile as the twins included him in everything they did and the three of them became a sort of a… package deal.

He integrated to the crew slowly and naturally, demanding no special treatment, no access to anything sensitive and taking his part in the battles without hesitation to fight and kill; he explained that once acknowledging the change in his loyalties, he saw no reason to consternate or doubt in himself. Jazz for a while had an unexplained mistrust for the mech that he couldn't really explain to even Prowl; but even the most careful surveillance couldn't turn up anything duplicitous about him and slowly he put the unreasonable, instinctive unease to rest. He had other problems soon that took his attention off Darkflame; the cassettes upped their sabotage and infiltrating missions to the Ark and all spec ops mechs had their servos full with countermeasures and spying to find out just what Soundwave was up to this time.

They had bad orns and they weren't even over; Frenzy and Laserbeak – or so they thought their guests were them - almost took up residence in the inaccessible air vents that not even Bumblebee could reach into and drove Red Alert to glitching almost constantly with their repeated hacking into the security systems and cameras. And they simply couldn't find out how the cassettes got in and out of the Ark undetected. Jazz had to admit that with the system in such condition as it was, their situation didn't even require the security chief's paranoia to be extremely worried. Prowl estimated a sneak attack on the Ark within ten orns at almost 95 %, and had Wheeljack making security drones to flush out their annoying pests from the air vents; as he said in a tactical meeting if it didn't happen soon, even their survival chances were down to percentages he was refusing to enumerate.

But the situation came to completion even sooner than he expected…

He was ready with the preparations; the comm system was out for the joor, Blaster working on it ferociously but without hope of putting it back into action soon enough; the security cameras were all on a loop of showing nice, empty corridors, befitting for the night cycle, while the doors were all coded open and any overrides disabled. The energon dispenser was laced all orn with a time-release agent causing any recharge to be a very deep one, and he kept tally of who didn't consume from it; Prowl of course, buried into the reports in his office and the Prime who had his own. But he had plans for them too…

It was well into the night cycle when Prowl finished with the reports and the analysis, and after grabbing a cube of energon, made his way towards their shared quarters with Jazz. Entering the room he quietly made his way towards the berth where he felt, rather than saw the form of his lover, when the attack came from behind; with blindingly strong pain he felt his doorwings torn off from his back, strong servos throwing him to the floor, pinning him there until he felt his servos crushed together and bound with some kind of a strong cable. The pain from his back made him totally unable to put up any resistance and he felt his attacker push him into a chair and bind there with more of the cable.

Through the haze of pain he tried to comm Jazz, Red Alert, Prime, anyone, before remembering with dismay that Blaster announced the comm system to be taken offline due to a virus for a whole joor; the handheld communicators that he issued to officers for the duration were no use in his present condition. Which caused him to suddenly freeze his squirming and with urgency open the bond with Jazz to ascertain of his condition… and when pain erupted in the other end he couldn't help but to scream out loud…

The lights came on after his painful scream and his gaze was immediately drawn to the berth, where Jazz lay shaking slightly all over; alive but all his limbs painfully and crudely nailed down to the berth's surface with huge bolts, bleeding energon copiously from the shattered joints and torn tubes. He looked up then, just like Jazz painfully lifting his helm towards the door, where a black shape leaned to the wall, calm as he pleased, like attacking and torturing two Autobot officers was commonplace, everyday activity for him…

"I told you not to trust me." – he said turning towards Prowl with a conversational tone of voice, in that deep, dark rumble of his – "I really am a Decepticon."

"You…?" – Prowl was half offline from his and Jazz's combined pain and the complete unbelievability of Darkflame deceiving all of them, playing his double game and betray them; if it was him behind all the accidents and misfortunes in the Ark lately then Prowl knew that they stood little chance of surviving; either them or the rest of the Autobots.

"Yes. Me. Now, to business; I know that you have a sparkbond; I give you a klik to say your goodbyes to each other."

He didn't say or else, nor did he have to. Prowl saw no way out of the situation. Neither could Jazz, as he confirmed it in the bond, silently, along with his pained apology of not being able to warn Prowl, to warn anyone, to follow up with his suspicion to catch the traitor… and along it the love and a goodbye when he saw the black shape move towards the berth and put an energon sword to the white chest plates, pushing it in slowly into the spark chamber. Prowl felt it with Jazz and couldn't do anything but scream to the maximum output of his vocalizer as his spark was torn in half; but not for long, as he sensed, rather than saw Darkflame move up to him and with a swift stab of the sword put him out of his agony too.

In a short few breems the two main officers of the Autobots lay offline, sparks extinguished and the plan he was preparing for vorns coming to its fruition. Darkflame gave the agreed signal to Soundwave waiting for it just outside the Ark, and moved out from the energon-stained quarters. He had a few scores to settle still and the soundproofing of Jazz's quarters meant that still no mech realized what transpired there. Ironhide was the next, the unlocked door opening without a sound, the black chassis blending in the darkness, like any true assassin's should, the sword descending just as silently, whispering its melting-hot way through the tough black armour, letting the mech time for only the shortest of the moans before piercing the spark-chamber.

By the time he stepped out of the room, he already heard the footsteps of his fellow Decepticons, clanking as they ran on the corridors, broken into the marked doors of sleeping quarters, offices, monitor room and offlining any Autobots they found in them. He heard Megatron's roar – the mech just didn't understand stealth if his life depended on it – approaching the Prime's room, and he too headed there; not many would dare to interfere with that scuffle but he had to see how it went. As expected it was the usual level struggle, neither of them gaining an upper hand yet. Part two of the invasion was in order and he gave the sign for it through their comm frequency.

Skywarp could hardly believe that while all the Decepticons were allowed to finally slaughter Autobots to their sparks' desire, he had to wait outside with the slagging Soundwave under direct orders of Megatron that even he didn't dare to defy. When the prearranged signal came through, he was eager to teleport to the given coordinates, hardly even overshooting and crashing into a bulkhead. The sight was not an unusual one, Megatron grappling without much success with the Prime, the only unusual sight being the black shape of Darkflame appearing from a side corridor, behind Prime's back. He didn't hesitate much though, and plunging his energon sword deep into the red expanse of back in front of him gestured quickly to Skywarp, who – albeit with his mouth-plates slightly hanging open in shock – ran to the two giants, and touching them teleported them all to the outside.

Darkflame left the sword in the Prime's back, the wound certainly not fatal, just giving an edge to Megatron, if he would use it; he turned on his heels, his mind already on the next item as he transformed to get to one certain unmarked door faster, before any Decepticons tried it and found out what was inside. Arriving there, he stepped in and locked the door behind; this explanation might take the most time so far. The lights that came on illuminated two extremely angry Autobots, welded to the berth together as they went to recharge after 'facing; one red, the other yellow and both cursing him with all the worst swearwords that they ever picked up anywhere, recognizing him as the traitor and correctly deducing the truth behind the screams, bellows and noise coming from all around the Ark now. He only nodded to them, affirming their deepest fears.

"Yes, all your friends are either dead or will be soon and Decepticons will win the war."

"Rust in the deepest circle of the Pit, slagging, glitched scraphead!"

"Ohh, that… I think I will. But then many will keep me company I guess."

"Frag you, you Pit-accursed traitor!"

"If you aren't interested in an explanation then I can go now and I leave you to the tender mercies of my fellow Decepticons, who would love to take advantage of the… khmm… interesting position you are in – not quite a fitting offline for warriors, but if you want to…?"

"What explanation, glitch-head? I am sick to have a so-called brother turning traitor on us all."

"That is exactly what I wanted to put your minds at ease… I am not your brother, although I believe I have played the part well."

"Impossible…! We both felt the sparks harmonize."

"That was because Shockwave did his job well. He had your spark frequency from way back when he studied you, and adjusted mine until it was near enough for yours to pick up as familiar. The rest of it… well, I played my part as per the plan and you deluded yourselves into believing it even when I made mistakes… As for Shockwave though, he died a very slow death for his part, mind you… or is dying it right now, I am not sure of the exact timing."

"So you were a Decepticon all along… and lied to us… slagger…"

"It was necessary. Someone had to end this war, and neither of our glorious leaders was able to do it."

"So you intend to backstab Megatron too?"

"If you want to, you can die believing that. Because you will die, in exactly one klik. You should use it as you wish…"

"I shall curse you to the Pit traitor!"

"That's one way of leaving the land of the living, I suppose…"

The twins shared a nanoklik of love through the bond before the energon sword pierced them both as they lay side by side; the split sparks curiously merged together, like trying to escape from the sword-point, but could not… they guttered out together, a fitting ending for the inseparable twins. Darkflame left the twins' quarters with something resembling a sorrow; he came to like them over the vorns that he spent getting closer to them, learning about them and at last living with them. But regret could not exist long in his twisted processor, not since Shockwave trained it to the real meaning of unending agony. There were not enough good experiences in the whole universe to overwrite that dark training; Darkflame gave up straining against it long ago, accepting his fate and place in the way things were.

Teleporting out from the Ark he came to stand beside Soundwave and both of them watched the two leaders just in front of them, and the distressed, bemused and totally out of his depth Skywarp sitting on his aft, after apparently backhanded by Megatron. The warlord, who at one point also sat down and was gazing at the greying body under his servo; his brother, the Matrix-bearer, the leader of the by then nonexistent Autobots, the Prime was no more. He killed his brother and by rights he should feel victory, he knew. But he didn't. He felt sorrow for a brother lost and the lone road ahead till all would really be one. He also didn't realize the grievous wound the Prime gave him before his end; one that untreated would leave him just as offlined.

Stepping closer, Darkflame got down to one knee beside him, laying a servo on one great shoulder, not in the very least afraid for the all-too-familiar touching of him. Megatron thought that he should kill this overreaching insect for the touch but he couldn't find the fire in his spark. But Darkflame could and he had one energon sword left; it was only fitting he thought since he had broken one into the back of the Prime to stab the other into this one. It was mercy in a way that his processor understood the concept. The surprise in the already darkening optics was in a way a fitting end for his own wretched life, he thought tiredly; and detonated the solar grenades in and around the Ark.

We all deserve death for our sins in this war, was his last thought as the long dormant volcano shook itself and – tickled into life by the immense explosions deep inside – erupted with a hot ash cloud into the air and magma roaring down on its side. Soundwave and Skywarp, getting into the air saw the two greying form and one black one beside them before the magma flowed down and encircled them; then flowing over and in a little while giving off no Cybertronian signature from the place where they were and none from the Ark's last location either; the volcano entombed what was left of a generation of Cybertronians fighting an endless war, unable to stop it and make peace. They were alone on Earth, aside from a few drones – and a few billion humans, though that fact was not in the forefront of their minds.

**Epilogue**

Soundwave and Skywarp left Earth by the Space Bridge after making sure that the cooled magma entombed their friends and foes alike after the decisive battle and destroying the Decepticon base too, to keep advanced weaponry out of humankind's hands.

Back on Cybertron they found that Shockwave was also offlined – the last courtesy of Darkflame's deviously complex plans – and a group of young Neutrals returning from space, apparently called back by him too, to take over the dispersing of the remaining troops and the rebuilding of their planet.

Earth slowly healed and forgot the huge metallic aliens and their war, until a few gruesome remains were unearthed from a dormant volcano and examined a few thousand years later, already in the space age; by the time much better prepared and understanding Cybertronians and other races alike.


End file.
